


To Live and Love Again

by jezt (jezebel)



Series: To Live and Love Again [1]
Category: Highlander: The Series
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-25
Updated: 2010-07-25
Packaged: 2017-10-10 19:29:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/103418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jezebel/pseuds/jezt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Richie saw himself die, but when he happens upon another immortal he begins to rebuild his life.  Is it possible to live and love again?</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Live and Love Again

**Author's Note:**

> This is part one of a series I wrote a long time ago, some of it is corny and cheesy but even after all this time I still love this fandom and the characters that I wrote in it.

\------------------------------ Part One.

Paris 1997.

He wandered alone through the streets of Paris. Nobody noticed him. Nobody ever notices a dead man, and that is what he was. Richie Ryan was dead. His whole world gone in one sword stroke, wiped out by the man he had loved as a father.

Richie had not been sure at first how he was alive. He had witnessed his own death, he thought perhaps he was now in Hell. The grief that had hit Joe, when he looked at the headless body that day at the racetrack, haunted him. MacLeod had asked Methos to kill him, and when he answered "absolutely not!". MacLeod turned his back on his friends and left.

It was only much later when Richie felt the gnawing hunger pains in his stomach, that he came to realize he was still trapped in a human body. A trip to the bathroom to look in a mirror had rammed this point home when he saw that he was stuck in the forever-young body that he had seen his teacher decapitate.

***So I am alive, but to the world I am dead*** he had thought to himself.

The barge had been put in dry dock and Duncan was gone as were Adam and Joe. Alone, confused and starving Richie had returned to the streets. It was the only other place that had ever felt like home. The days were relatively warm but Richie did not feel the heat of the sun or any other joys of life. He only felt the pain and anguish at being alone and his heart had turned to icy stone for Duncan had tried to take his head *again*.

So Richie wandered aimlessly through the streets of Paris, unhindered by the rest of the world. Doing what he did best, surviving. He had lost his sword, he assumed it had disappeared when he did at the racetrack. Richie was not surprised when he finally felt the touch of one of his own kind. Death would release him, and he hoped and prayed that this immortal would be a hunter who would swiftly decapitate him without a second thought. Then he could be free.

\--- The taller, older immortal was on his way back to his car when he felt the presence in the back of his head, a sign that another immortal was near by. John Peterson usually avoided fighting. He knew that his tall wiry frame was not as ideal, as some of his opponents in the game, and he was not one to take a head lightly. John felt for the Katana that was stashed in his long coat and began to scan the vicinity for the other immortal. He saw someone turn the corner and enter an alley and decided that this meant the other wanted to fight. Careful not to draw any undue attention to himself from innocent bystanders he made his way into the alley.

A redheaded boy, who was only around nineteen when he died, sat slumped against the wall, acting as if he were already dead.

"I'm John Peterson. I do not want to fight you, what is your name?" he said, making it more of an order than a question. But the boy remained silent.

Who are you?" John pushed, the aristocratic tone coming out as condescendence and showing his British heritage.

"I'm nothing." The boy uttered it return, his voice tinted with pain beyond his years. "I'm dead." ***Dead inside*** Richie thought. John felt the hurt that was reflected in this statement.

"You died once" John spoke, " but you are immortal, you are not like other people. You can't die by conventional means. Come let me take you for a meal. You look like you have not eaten in days, then I promise to explain it all to you. Just promise me in return that you will remain open-minded."

Richie stood and followed the other immortal to a small cafe. They sat at a small table in the corner, far enough away from the prying eyes of the Parisian populous. John told Richie the story that he already knew. He explained the Game, Immortals and how there could be only one. After they had some tea and cake John offered to take Richie to his home and become his teacher.

"The Gathering is upon us Boy and if you want to survive you will need to learn how to use a sword. Come back with me and I will teach you."

Richie thought over the offer, not knowing what to say. It was safe to pretend to be a new immortal; John was offering him the chance to leave his old life behind. In that split second Richie made a decision which would affect the rest of his life.

"My name is Ryan Redstone." He said, not wanting to leave behind all traces of his former life.

"Welcome to the Game Ryan." John said wistfully. The gathering was upon them and he was not sure how long new immortals would last. -------------------------------------- Part 2 (for disclaimers see top) ----------

\- Peterson estate- somewhere outside Paris. April 1998 -

Richie sat at the table reading over what he had written so far. He had decided that John deserved to know the truth about the boy he had come to know as Ryan. Yet now as he sat to tell the story he could not find the words to express it. ***How do I tell the man who took me into his home and his heart that I am not what he thinks I am?*** Richie thought to himself. Richie screwed up yet another attempt to write the life story of Richie Ryan and sighed. It had been many months since John had found him on the streets of Paris afraid and alone. The older immortal had taken him into his home, and had then begun to teach him the skills he needed to live. Richie told him that he had fenced at school and had some martial arts training when he was younger. Lessons revolved around other skills Richie would need to survive. John taught him how to create new identities, how to read intentions and body language of potential challengers, and most importantly how to live again.

They sparred each night when John returned from the city, where he worked as a stockbroker. Richie had been wary of his new teacher at first. Duncan MacLeod had taught him many of life's lessons, but one of the most important had been how easily trust could be taken for granted. At first Richie told him very little about his first life, afraid that he might be rejected if his new teacher heard of the prowess of his former mentor. John was patient and kind, and eventually Richie found himself allowing the other man to share in his life. This had led him to where he was at the moment. He wanted to explain to this new man in his life who he had been. Also why, despite the six months of therapy John had paid for, Richie was still riddled with nightmares about what happened at the racetrack. Richie was wary of therapy at first, but John knew an immortal doctor who was willing to take on his new student and try to heal his ailing mind. Dr. Gibson had been immortal for 150 years and had practiced medicine in one form or another his whole life. What he could not cure with medicine he tried to cure with psychotherapy or psychiatry. However Richie proved to be a difficult case and for him therapy was unsuccessful.

Richie found it too difficult to deal with the details of his former life. As far as the world was concerned Richie Ryan was dead. The young immortal had on many occasions tried to telephone his friend Joe. He wanted the watcher to know he was alive and well and to explain it all to him. Yet it seemed too difficult. Richie had always felt a bond with the blues man and they were close friends but Richie had never openly expressed those feelings. On one of his rare trips into Paris, Richie had visited the bar which had once been his favorite drinking establishment, unfortunately it had been deserted for quite sometime. There was nothing left to remind the young man of his former life.

Richie gave up writing and went back to the list of chores that John had left him. ***Just like working for Duncan and Tessa*** He thought with a sigh. First there was some research to do on an article John was writing, and then Richie had to do the cooking and cleaning to earn his keep. The mundane every day duties needed to be done first, he would deal with his confession to John later.

\------------------- John returned from the city early that evening. The day had been quite stressful for him, filled with meetings with disgruntled clients. All he wanted to do was sit down and have a quiet drink with Richie before their nightly workout. He was impressed by how quickly the boy had handled the basics of fighting and sword play. It was as if he had been born with a sword in his hand ***Of course he may have been, no one knows where immortals come from.*** He smiled to himself. Now the sparring was more easily matched. John Peterson had 2,000 years experience and still the youth managed to floor him with his skill. Had he not known better he would have thought that the boy had already been trained.

The boy's past worried John. There were nightmares despite the counseling. and there was often a look in his eyes of distrust and pain. There was one night in particular, which was clear in John's mind, it had been not long after the boy had first come to live at the Peterson estate.

//Richie had been asleep in his bedroom, in the west wing, while John was downstairs in his study reading. The older immortal enjoyed relaxing with a book after a hard day at work and this day was no exception. He was about to begin rereading David Copperfield when a bloodcurdling scream came from the direction of Ryan's room. Reading only one immortal signature he was still aware that it could be a mortal assailant and took his sword with him to investigate. John found Richie sitting bolt upright in bed, clutching his knees tight to his chest sobbing. Uncertain what had occurred, but suspecting nightmares, John moved to Richie's side and took the boy in his arms. They stayed in an embrace until Richie settled down again and John stayed with him, telling him he was safe and loved until Richie's breathing settled and he was again asleep.//

John shuddered at the memory. He felt a pang of guilt at being comforted himself, for in receiving Richie's warmth and trust John experienced the feeling of being needed by another, and it had felt good. Sometimes being as old as Christianity made it difficult to connect with the generation at hand. Richie made John feel alive again, but, also reminded him of the lack of innocence of this century. John knew he was overprotective, but his paternal feelings for the boy made him so. John had been alone for quite some time and he longed for the boy's companionship. John rarely let Ryan leave the safety of the converted monastery that was the Peterson estate fearing that one day there would be a challenger that Richie could not vanquish. John decided to stop thinking such morbid thoughts now and instead concentrate on the night's spar he had been looking forward to all day. Just the thought of a good work out had helped him survive the entire day at the office. Friday nights meant hand to hand combat and the chance to whip the boy's ass into shape. The boy may be good with a sword but apart for a little Jujitsu and a few moves he seemed to have learned from Jackie Chan his unarmed combat skills were lacking.

As he entered the kitchen John was overpowered by the wonderful aroma of Ryan's specialty, "Microwavable Chicken Curry". Sitting down at the table the elder immortal was immediately concerned by the wistful look on the young man's face.

"Ryan?" He enquired "Is something the matter?" The younger man placed the dinner plates on the table before he spoke.

"I need to tell you...about before you and I met..." Richie said, staring into his dinner and idly pushing rice around his plate with his fork.

"It's in the past. Whatever it is doesn't matter now, you have a new life and *they* can't hurt you." John let his anger for those who must have mistreated this boy show in his voice.

John knew that this was never true if another immortal were involved but he hoped the empty platitude would calm the boy. The older immortal was worried he may have made things worse until Richie looked up. There was a strange sense of hope and expectancy in Richie's eyes, mixed with what could only be described as fondness. John tried to hide his pride that the boy was finally ready to accept the friendship that was offered. It had been a long hard road, but it seemed Richie was finally ready to trust again. Dinner was finished in a comfortable silence, each man knowing that the other respected and trusted the other.

\------------------------------- Part 3. (for disclaimers see top) ---------------- New York June 2000. ------------------- Richie stood at the door of the orphanage waiting to go in. It had been a long road to recovery but things were finally starting to look up for the ex-street punk. John had met, fallen for and married the daughter of a colleague, Marie. The wedding had been a small family affair and Richie acted as John's best man. From the first time John and Marie had dated Richie was assured by his mentor that he always had a place in John's heart. So when the company had sent John overseas Richie moved with the couple to the states where they settled in New York. Marie Peterson was like a mother to Richie and her uncanny resemblance to Tessa in both physical appearance and the warmth of heart endeared her to him. She was tall, blonde and had magnificent blue eyes that shone with a love for life that was infectious. When Marie had suffered a miscarriage a few days before Christmas, it was Richie who took her to the hospital and called John from work. Marie had been pregnant when the couple met, and John's infertility only added to the hardships that the miscarriage brought. It was Richie who was suggested adoption, and now it was Richie who was going with them to find a child to take into their home.

The clinical dormitories were painted all in white and illuminated with harsh, bare bulbs reminded Richie of his own childhood in such places. These memories were still painful, but he pushed them into the back of his mind, not wanting to ruin what John and Marie's special day.

John and Richie both felt the faint buzz as soon as they entered the day room. A girl of perhaps two or three sat alone in the corner playing with a doll. She was ignored by all of the other children who played busily around her. A beautiful girl, her dark curls framed the face of an angel. It did not seem right that she had obviously suffered so much already, her years the pain reflected in her deep hazel eyes. Slowly Richie moved away from the crowd of social workers and caregivers that were showing them around and went to sit near the girl. He tried to talk to her as she played.

"Hello. I'm Ryan." He said in a low voice. "What's your name?" The girl ignored him, choosing instead to tell her doll something in an inaudible whisper. Unperturbed by this, Richie found a male doll abandoned by one of the other children and walked it over to where she was playing. The girl looked up at him with a bemused look in her big hazel eyes. "Can I play too?" Richie asked her softly. "I don't often get the chance to play with dolls. People say boys should all be tough and play sport, but I like dolls." They interacted silently for a few moments before the social worker, that was showing John and Marie around, approached him. Richie felt a light touch of a hand placed on his arm.

"Emily is a very antisocial child. Her foster parents died in a road accident six months ago and she has not spoken since. She saw it all and had she not been thrown from the speeding car she too would have died. I'm sure the Petersons respect your input, but there are a lot of children better suited to their needs. There are babies that need homes. I'm sure they'd prefer one of those." The social worker was only trying to be helpful, but John had already seen the look Richie had in his eyes. A look of love and hope for this little girl. John took the social worker to one side and told her that they would like to know more about the girl, while Richie sat quietly watching her play. He knew that she would be like him one day , so he wanted to protect her and guide her though her mortal life. ***Maybe she*** *** Emily*** he corrected himself wanting to put a name to the face of this cherub ***Maybe Emily could be spared the pain I had to suffer*** Richie thought with a shudder, not wanting to be reminded of his own past in care.

-December 24th 2000-

The brown haired angel sat on Richie's knee and shook the present in her hands. Emily had been allowed to spend the holidays with her prospective parents and seemed to be happy with them. It had been six months since the fateful day at the orphanage, and since then the Petersons had made efforts to secure Emily's placement in their home. Social Services were wary of placing a child with special educational needs. It had been a year since the four year old had spoken and there were worries that she suffered greatly from the tragedy she had witnessed. Richie knew a loving home was the best way to help the little girl and that Marie and John were good caring people who may be able to help her. He looked down at the cherub sitting on his lap and smiled. ***This is the way I can make a difference.*** He thought as he met the expectant eyes of the child in his arms.

It was traditional for them to go to church as a family each Sunday, Marie was a devout Catholic and insisted that Richie, despite his own mixed views of the church, join them each week at Mass. They were on their way to a Christmas service when Emily ran off, because she thought she saw Santa in a car going the other way. Richie and John both panicked as they began searching the vicinity for the pre- immortal. Emily's buzz was weak, but it usually allowed them to locate her quickly and easily. John felt a third immortal presence first and turned the corner to see the female immortal talking to his future daughter. ---------

"Hello?" the stranger said to Emily. "Where are you running off to?" Emily looked at the lady who had knelt down to speak to her. ***She's got funny white hair*** Emily thought ***I bet she knows where Santa is*** "Cat got your tongue?" The funny lady asked smiling.

Emily shook her head, she had not spoken since her first Mummy and Daddy had gone away and was not going to start now. It was then that she saw her new Daddy come around the corner, he looked very angry and carried a sword like the Knights in Camelot in the book Uncle Ryan was reading to her. Emily watched as the funny lady drew a sword too. The child giggled to herself as she realized that the lady looked like Queen Guinevere.

"Let her go!" John warned "She is just a child, if you are looking for a fight then I'll take you." John tried to hide the urgency in his voice just wanting to get Emily back to the safety of their home.

"I have no fight with you." Came the curt reply.

"Then back away from her now and maybe I will let you go with your head." John stated, he did not usually take challenges let alone issue them, but he was willing to do so if it meant he was able to protect those he loved.

"Emily, run and find Marie, I have some business to discuss with this lady." The young girl looked between the funny lady and her daddy, and then ran away. They both had swords and both looked ready to use them. Scared and confused she ran straight into her Uncle as she swerved around the corner.

\------

"Hey" Richie said as he bent down to pick her up. "No running away," he said, " Marie and John are worried about you." He balanced her in the crook of his arm and then moved to sit her on his shoulders letting out a sigh ***At least I've found her***. It was not until he moved to find the couple, to inform them their daughter was safe, that he felt the wave of double immortal presence. Turning the corner it was obvious to the red head that John was engaged in a face off, but when he saw the identity of John's opponent his face fell.

"John, leave it, please. Let it go, we've got to get to Mass and Marie will worry."

"You can't interfere Ryan, a challenge has been issued." John's voice was harsh. "Take Emily to church and wait for me. You'll both be safe there."

"I can't. I don't think anyone needs to lose their heads today. Am I right?" he looked at the female immortal who nodded. Then a startled look crossed her face as she met the cool blue eyes. She dropped her sword. Richie handed Emily to John as he passed him, and then went to the woman as she fell to her knees in shock.

"Go." he said to John "I'll explain later. She is a friend of mine." John nodded silently, he was reluctant to leave Richie alone but he trusted the boy's judgment, and Marie was waiting for them. "Tell Marie I'm sorry I can't be with you and send my apologies to Father Patrick." Richie said as his teacher and friend slowly walked away. It was some time before the blonde immortal regained any awareness of her surroundings, she was dazed and confused she had heard from her friends the circumstances surrounding Richie's death. ***Am I finally going mad???***She thought.

"Amanda?" Richie ventured, reading the confusion on her face, " I think I owe you an explanation."

\------------------------------------ The two old friends found a diner that was open. Richie bought Amanda a cup of hot tea with far too much sugar than was good for her and waited for her to stop shaking. He heard Tessa's voice in his ears " tea is always good for a shock"

and smiled. ***Well, this is   
definitely a shock, after all I am "dead" ***

"Richie?" Amanda asked, finally having regained use of her voice. "Is it really you?" The thief seemed uncertain of herself and of her surroundings. Amanda gripped on to her mug of tea as if her life depended on it. Richie told her the full story, from Ahriman to finding Emily at the orphanage, he did not pause long enough for her to interrupt, and he was glad that she let him recall it all before she spoke again.

"What about Mac and Joe? Were you just going to let them think you were dead?" There was a touch of anger in her voice mingled with a hint of uncertainty. "The last three years have ripped Duncan apart inside. After Methos refused to take Mac's head he tried to give it up to another immortal so that no one else would die." Amanda's thoughts returned to the O'Rourke fiasco and she shuddered when she thought back to how close Duncan had come to dying permanently. Anger welled up inside Richie as he thought about how difficult those times had been for him, but he let it go when his survival instincts kicked in. Richie needed to protect himself from MacLeod but also had no justification to believe that Amanda was a threat to him or the   
Petersons.

"Is Mac with you?" He asked, the fear obvious in his urgency. "I need to hit the road if he is." Amanda sighed as she heard his trepidation.

"No. I'm here visiting Connor. He has a few pieces that he needed my expert opinion on. Richie, there's no need to fear Duncan. The demon is gone. I won't tell him I have seen you but *please* think about calling him, for me." She gave him her best puppy dog eyes and little girl pout but it did not work.

I'm sorry Amanda. MacLeod tried for my head three times now, I think I'm entitled to my own life. I'm happy here and I don't need the MacLeods to ruin that for me, either of them. Tell me about Joe though, I miss him. And you? What have you been up to?" Amanda decided to let the subject of Duncan drop and instead told Richie about her numerous exploits and adventures. She mentioned that Joe had opened a new bar in Seacouver's neighbouring town of Warrington and that Methos, despite no longer being in the Watchers, was still hiding in his books as Adam Pierson, mild mannered grad-student. They sat   
for half an hour and chatted about life in general until Richie heard the church bells chime which signalled it was time to go. They parted with a lingering hug, and he gave her a cell phone number where he could be contacted in emergencies. Richie had made it clear that he had a new life, which did not involve Duncan MacLeod, but was still interested in his other friends; Joe, Angie, Amanda and even Methos whom he still cared for. It was time for Richie to tell John about his past and see what bearing this would have on his future with his new family.

\---  
Back at the Peterson House

 

John paced the lounge anxiously. He was waiting for his student to come home and explain his actions. He watched the joy in Marie's eyes as she and Emily decorated the Christmas tree, but this did nothing to allay his fears that his new found family was about to be torn out from under him. John had been away from the Game for too long.

Before meeting his pupil in Paris it had been almost 100 years. John had survived the rising of the New World and the final disintegration of the British Empire without ever raising a sword. Richie and he had discussed the possibility of a peaceful existence for immortals, and his pupil was more than happy to remain on holy ground, following the teachings of Darius. Of course John did not know that Richie had known the great priest before his death, or that he had trained with Darius' favourite to win the Prize. John did not know that the great Duncan MacLeod lived half his life in Paris, and Richie had always hoped that he did not care. John knew of the immortal that refused to change his name and was surprised that the idiot child had kept his head this long. MacLeod and his supposed Kinsman Connor had never crossed John's path and he was glad of that, rumour had it they were   
both exceptional warriors and having been away for so long John may not have won. At the same time as John heard the Taxi pull up he felt the familiar buzz of an immortal. John quickly made his way to the door hoping Ryan had not had to resort to a fight and worrying that he may be recovering from a quickening. John realised that it was an old friend but did not know if she still felt the same way now that Ryan too was immortal.

"Ryan?" he called into the yard as he opened the door, keeping his hand on the Katana concealed in the umbrella stand.

"It's okay John." the red head replied with a smile. "Nothing that I couldn't handle with a few words about peace and love." Richie joked.

"I think that now may be a good time for me to explain a few things about my past though." He said his tone sobering. They were inside the house, when John ushered Richie into his private study so that the young man could tell him what was bothering him. The pair sat quietly as John poured them both a large glass of Brandy and waited as Richie recounted the story of his youth.

The boy explained about his former teacher, how he had almost lost his head to him and his ensuing disillusionment about the entire concept of Immortality. Richie edited his story to refrain from having to explain about the champion or millennial demons, but explained there were extenuating circumstances involved that even he did not understand. Richie expected anger from his mentor, who may be feeling betrayed, for he had wrongfully believed that Richie had been a new ignorant immortal that needed his help. John however was patient and kind. He told him the story of how he had found himself lost and alone when he first became immortal over 2000 years ago. John understood how Richie felt and told his student that he still had a   
lot to learn about life. Richie admitted that there were many immortals who believed him to be dead and that he had lost his friends and family the day he decided Richie Ryan would die. John replied merely that it was past, he had expected a request for wisdom but Richie knew better than to ask. It had hit him hard when he had been duped by the false Methos and a similar request to the real 5000 year old had elicited a simple "no" in response. John, who did not know that Richie knew Methos or that he even existed, shrugged it off as another failure by Duncan MacLeod to instill in the boy an interest   
for the world. John realized now that the man whom he had merely thought an idiot a few hours before was now someone he hated vehemently. Anyone who could crush a boy's soul so grievously did not deserve the gift of immortality.

"We are your family now Ryan." John told him. "Emily, Marie and I will always be here. You are right. Richie Ryan died the day your teacher betrayed you, but you are no longer alone." Richie managed to totally relax for the first time in a long while. He trusted Amanda to keep his secret and that was all that mattered. Quietly the pair made their way to the dinner table where Marie and Emily were waiting for them and at that moment Richie felt at home.

\-------------------------------------------  
Part 4   
\-----------------------------------------

-New York 25th May 2004-

Richie and Emily were on their way home. The pair had been at the   
dojo where Richie worked. Richie had studied at Community college to   
get a business degree and much to John's dismay had gotten himself a   
job as a manager and martial arts teacher after graduation. Richie   
had done very similar work in his former life with MacLeod and John   
disliked Richie being reminded of those times. Emily took Karate   
lessons at the dojo three days a week, and at eight years old she was   
already at a stage many years above her peers. She was also desperate   
to start fencing lessons as soon as her mother would allow. The girl   
also played sports and loved nothing more than beating Richie at   
Soccer. Emily was a troubled child and over the past three years   
since she became a permanent member of the Peterson household matters   
were often strained. She still had not spoken a word despite years in   
and out of all types of therapy and the doctors believed she may be   
silent for the rest of her life. John and Marie had spent hours with   
her trying to learn ASL (American Sign Language) or some other way of   
communicating with her but now merely accepted that she would probably   
remain silent. They coped as a family. Richie and Emily had a special   
bond, not unlike that of a brother and sister. Marie often commented   
of the pair that she did not know which one was the bigger infant,   
especially when she found them raiding the kitchen for cookies or   
having water fights in the garden.

As soon as Richie and Emily arrived at the house an eerie silence   
seemed to fall over the whole place. John was not home for Richie   
felt no other presence other than Emily. Richie unpacked the car   
while Emily ran in to the house excited because they were having   
burgers for dinner.

\-----  
Entering the house the child was faced with images that she could not   
begin to understand. The body of her father lay at the foot of the   
stairs and his severed head lay next to him. John's eyes were open and   
they stared off into nothingness. Emily saw her mother as she moved   
past John. Marie lay in a pool of blood just behind her husband, she   
looked peaceful and for a moment Emily believed her to be sleeping.   
After a few minutes of gentle nudging and pushing she realised Marie   
was not going to wake up. The only thing she could think to do was   
call her name. "Mummy?" She asked tentatively "Mummy wake up." There   
was a level of urgency in the girl's voice, as her mother did not   
respond. Moving away from the still bodies of her parents urgency   
turned into despair as she realized they were dead. The only clear   
thought in the eight-year-old's head was to get away and find Ryan so   
that he could protect her.

\--------------------

Richie was deep in thought when he heard the unfamiliar voice   
screaming his name.

"Uncle Ryan, Uncle Ryan." Emily screamed frantically as she ran from   
the house and straight into the protective arms of her immortal   
friend. Richie was not sure whether he was more startled by the   
penetrating voice of the young girl or the fear that it exuded. He had   
never expected to hear her voice. He and John had often wondered if it   
would affect her survival as an immortal that she could not speak.   
Dropping the bag that he carried, Richie fell to his knees and picked   
up the frightened child. He carried her back inside the house as she   
squirmed in his arms. Pushing his fear and awe that she was obviously   
better to the back of his mind, Richie knew he had to find out what   
was wrong.

"No..." she sobbed as he crossed over the threshold and was faced with   
the headless body of his friend. " Daddy is hurt and Mummy is   
sleeping." she uttered between sobs. Richie knew what had occurred.   
A headhunter must have been in the area and had attacked the couple in   
their own home. Richie panicked uncertain what to do with the child   
who lay almost catatonic with grief in his arms. Gently he sat the   
girl down so he was free to investigate; his vague knowledge of   
children made him certain she would stay. Emily was gently rocking   
back and forth on the steps as Richie returned into the house and   
packed as many of their belongings as he could lay his hands on into   
suitcases and boxes. The house had been their family home for nearly   
five years but now it was the last place Richie wanted to be. ***I   
don't have a family anymore***he thought to himself as he threw   
clothes into yet another bag. ***Emily is all I have left and I know   
that if I tell the authorities what happened they'll just take her   
away from me too*** Tears were streaming down the young man's face as   
he finally zipped up the last of their bags before heading out to the   
car. Emily still sat where he had left her, gently rocking back and   
forth completely oblivious to the world around her. The young   
immortal wanted vengeance but knew that John's pacifism prevented it   
and he wanted to respect his teacher's wishes. Marie had died from a   
single stab wound to the chest, and it seemed that she had interfered   
in the challenge. Richie sighed, ***yet another mortal casualty in the   
immortal Game.***

Richie saw a movement in the shadows next to the house and in a fit of   
rage he ran to find that there had been an observer to the incident.   
It had never occurred to the young man that the family had a watcher.   
It had been 100 years since John had seen the need to take a head and   
other than taking the young man into his home had managed to avoid the   
game for a long time. The Watcher tried to run away but before he   
could find his feet Richie had him pinned against the side wall of the   
house.

"Did you see it?" he asked. But the watcher remained frozen with   
fear. Richie grabbed the young man's hand brutally and showed him the   
tattoo on the his wrist. Richie grinned knowingly. "I asked if you   
saw it?" he repeated angrily the young man began to sob in fear, as he   
lost control of his emotions. He then nodded deciding a broken oath   
was better than broken bones.

"You know about us?" The mortal managed to choke out between sobs   
"Then you know that there was nothing I could do. I know that John   
Peterson was a good man, but I took an oath to observe and not   
interfere." A fresh flood of tears flowed over the watcher's cheeks   
as he thought of the dead woman innocently caught in a game that she   
knew nothing about. Richie relaxed his grip on the man but kept him   
pinned to the wall.

"Do you know who I am?" he asked, allowing the anger into his voice.   
The watcher shook his head no, unable to trust his voice but   
controlling the tears now his life was not in immediate danger. "Then   
I was never here, we never met and we certainly never had this   
discussion." The young observer nodded and looked up thankfully to the   
other man. The watcher organization was his life and he did not know   
what he would do if he was thrown out for fraternising with a member   
of the immortal's family. The watcher had only half lied to the   
immortal, they knew that Ryan Redstone was immortal, from his   
interaction with the immortal thief Amanda, but his newness to the   
game made him of less importance. The watcher though if he   
embellished the records a little it would mean he could leave with his   
life intact.

"Good." Richie replied "Get your people to clean up the mess and tell   
them all that happened except that me and the girl ever returned home,   
and I will let you walk out of here alive." Richie said threateningly.   
He let the man go only after he nodded his assent.

Richie returned to the tiny bundle that sat on the porch of his former   
home and picked her up. Emily did not look like the vivacious eight-  
year old he had picked up from school earlier that day, it was as if   
she had regressed to the child he had seen that first day at the   
orphanage. He sighed as he wondered what far off place this child had   
retreated to, her red puffy eyes the only indication of the pain she   
felt. Emily had returned to her safe place trying to find comfort in   
Ryan's arms. The memories of what she had seen already pushing   
themselves into the dark recesses of her mind where she kept all the   
bad things that had occurred in her short life. The child's thoughts   
moved on to happier things as Richie whispered to her about the   
adventure that they were about to begin.

\------------  
Seacouver 25th May 2004-  
Amanda sat at the table in the corner of Joe's bar and sipped on a   
glass of Chardonnay, she had intercepted a fax intended for Joe before   
it could reach the prying eyes of his staff, or him for that matter.   
Amanda was visibly shaken when she read that Richie's teacher had lost   
a challenge and that his wife had been caught in the crossfire. Their   
deaths did not matter to her as much as the fact that their adoptive   
daughter was missing, and there was no mention in the report of Ryan   
Redstone, who apparently the Watchers had no knowledge of. Amanda had   
tried the number that Richie had given her only to find it   
disconnected, and she knew it would be futile to go to the house.   
Indication from the watchers was that it had been cleansed of any   
immortal traces, and the cleaners had told the landlord that the   
family had moved to Texas with no forwarding address.

Amanda never regretted the decision to keep it from Duncan that she   
had met his former student. Richie has been scared that Duncan would   
find him again and Amanda thought deep down that if she could just   
make sure that Richie kept his head one-day she could work on a   
reconciliation. Neither did she regret the return trips she had made   
to visit the youth every few months to keep an eye on him. The pair   
always met in secret and had built a tentative friendship over the   
last four years. Richie knew that Joe was not getting any younger but   
refused to see his former friend in case Duncan was in town. They had   
seen each other only six weeks before and now Amanda feared that the   
man who had taken his teacher's head might also have killed Richie.   
Her thoughts were interrupted by a familiar buzz as the immortal   
presence washed over her. Afraid it was Duncan early for their lunch   
date she returned the paper to the desk and dried her eyes and checked   
her make-up before she reached for her sword. She relaxed a little as   
Methos walked in and went to pour himself a glass of wine before   
joining her at the table. Unfortunately Amanda had underestimated   
Methos, after 5000 years the guy knew how to tell when a girl had been   
crying.

"Amanda what's wrong?" he asked putting his hand out to comfort her.   
The female immortal shied away from his touch and stared at the glass   
in her hand. Methos sighed ***Damn it! You'd think after 68 wives   
I'd learn to leave well alone, but if she loses her head in this state   
I'll never hear the end of it from the Boy Scout*** "Amanda, honey,   
talk to me." Amanda sighed and showed the old man the message about   
her *friend* John Peterson. Methos hated to do it but decided the   
only way to help her was to access the Watcher files to see who had   
taken his head. He made Amanda swear she would not seek revenge if   
only to save her from losing her own head. He then pulled down the   
file of one John Peter of Jericho aka John Peterson.

John Peter of Jericho  
Status: Deceased: killer unknown  
Birthplace: Asia  
First death: circa AD 64 (10th year of the reign of Nero)  
Heads: approximately 150  
Known associates: Darius (deceased) Sabir (deceased)  
Current Location: New York   
Further information: Married (wife deceased)   
adoptive daughter-may be pre-immortal (missing presumed dead)   
Watcher: Alex Moore (reassignment imminent)

\----FILE TERMINATED---

 

After a few minutes further investigation Methos spoke.

"His files seem to have been doctored by his most recent watcher,   
details changed and even removed." Methos said nonchalantly   
***RICHIE!!*** Amanda thought. They had both noticed the reference to   
Darius but had not really seen any relevance. Darius was a peaceful   
man and if he and John had both been in Paris for two centuries it was   
extremely likely that they had been friends. This was information   
that would later prove vital to the family but for now seemed   
superfluous.

"Thank you Methos" Amanda said, kissing him on the cheek as she took   
the print out of the Watcher file, which included the addresses of   
three large estates John had owned as well as other information.

"I'll remember this next time you and Duncan are arguing" She said   
jokingly, referring to the many times she found herself as arbitrator   
between the two men. With that she left to make enquiries about what   
she had found out. Somehow she could not bring herself to believe   
that Richie had died before the age of 30.

***And I'll remember it the next time you and MacLeod fall out and you   
need a place to stay.*** Methos thought watching as Amanda sauntered   
to the door, swaying her hips seductively.

\---------------------------------------------  
Part 5   
\------------------------------------------  
-September 20th 2004-

"Uncle Ryan, Don't be sad. You can come and play with my dolls. See   
there is no one here to tell you off." Emily said as she played on the   
floor of their two-roomed apartment. It was a dump and yet the eight-  
year old treated it as if it were a palace.

A lot had happened since they had left New York. Richie had not   
touched any of the money that John had access to, fearing the watchers   
may have access to this information. Instead they were living on the   
little money that Richie had in the bank. They had been living in   
Warrington for nearly two months now having finally decided that   
Seacouver was the only other place Richie felt was home. Richie had   
procured forged documents that identified Emily as his niece and   
showed that his brother had died a few months before. The young pre-  
immortal had been on Summer Vacation soon after the death of her   
parents. Richie planned to take her to the Peterson estate in Paris   
as soon as he had enough money to travel so no-one bothered to ask   
about her education, in the mean time Richie was teaching her at home   
as best he could with his own limited knowledge. Emily stayed with a   
neighbour while Richie worked nights at a local diner and during the   
day he returned the favour for the neighbour minding her 10 year old   
boy. That day Emily was right in her assumption that Richie was sad.   
It was his 30th Birthday and no one, other than Emily, was there to   
celebrate it with him. Richie felt a pang for the friends he had left   
behind all those years ago but knew that he could not walk back into   
their lives now. Richie sighed and went to pour himself a drink.

As he moved to the kitchen area near the door the wave of presence hit   
him. Panicking Richie shouted to Emily to go and hide and he would   
come find her later. She liked these games and found a place under the   
big bed in her bedroom where she was sure her Uncle would not find   
her. From what Richie could sense there was at least one person   
outside. John had taught him how to read quickenings and this was an   
extremely strong one. Fear welled up inside him as he envisaged the   
face of Duncan MacLeod in his mind, one of the strongest people he   
knew. Feeling for the revolver in his jacket he proceeded to   
carefully open the door, sword in one hand, gun in the other.

"Ah, so you cheat now too?" Came the voice he had not heard in so   
long.

"Adam?" he asked in disbelief, he lowered his sword carefully and   
replaced the gun in it's holster. "I avoid fighting as much as   
possible now and a gunshot wound is the easiest way to get away."   
Richie said explaining his weapon. "If I shoot before a challenge has   
been issued it is not really cheating and I don't take the person's   
head."

"Bright boy." Methos replied smiling. "So, Can I come in?" he asked,   
pushing his way past Richie and into the apartment. Richie was still   
speechless that Methos knew where he was. ***Why is he here and more   
importantly does this mean Mac is following him?***

"Nice place you've got here, almost livable." Methos commented wryly   
as he flung himself on the sofa. "And you can tell the little one to   
come out, I'll not hurt her unless she tries to hug me." Methos   
grimaced then laughed lightly. Richie went to retrieve Emily from   
under the bed and she seemed perturbed that she had been found so   
easily. ***One day I'll explain the internal tracking device she   
has***Richie thought as he tuned in to the comfort of her pre-immortal   
buzz. Richie returned to the couch where Methos sat, carrying two   
bottles of beer and an Orange Juice for Emily. Handing the beer to   
Methos he sat down on the floor by his niece and stared at his feet.   
Richie was not sure whether to be scared or happy about the visit from   
the old man, and was still trying to figure it out when Methos filled   
the silence.

"I suppose you want an explanation about why I've not been in touch"   
he said, "How did you find me anyway?" Richie asked knowing that   
Amanda had sworn on her precious stones never to reveal his identity   
or location.

"Someone broke into the Watcher Database a few months ago and removed   
some files. I had to find out who had managed to do it, I designed the   
system especially so that I was the only one with backdoor access.   
It's meant to be impenetrable." Methos accused. Richie blushed   
enjoying the compliment, something that rarely came out of the old   
man's mouth.

The ex-thief had originally picked up computer fraud as a skill from   
his former teacher as a way of changing his identity. It had only   
been when John had allowed him his more computer access when he   
started college that he had taken it up seriously and begun to acquire   
his computer genius. Richie had quite an eye for hacking and it had   
often helped him when the dojo he ran had owed too much or books had   
not balanced. Amanda had also used his skills to remove a few   
warrants that had been put out on her and access the blueprints to a   
museum which had somehow lost a few valuable artifacts in a robbery a   
few weeks later. The Watcher database was nearly as tough as his   
first attempts to access John's bank accounts but the knowledge of   
Adam's taste in music had come in handy when he needed to run password   
sweeps. It took him 48 hours to access the information and change it   
so he had never existed, but once it was done he had assumed he was   
safe and once again unreachable.

"So I changed a few details, it's not as if you didn't do the same   
when you worked on your own chronicles." Richie sniped back. "I was   
trying to protect my family."

"I thought Mac and Joe were your family." Methos replied. He saw the   
boy visibly flinch at the mention of the Scot. "Sorry Kid, it's just   
that Joe doesn't deserve this. Did you know that Joe was offered a   
recording contract shortly before you left. He stopped playing after   
we thought you died. Sure the business is doing well but a little bit   
of him died that day at the racetrack. *I* like to keep track of my   
friends" Richie flinched again and swallowed a lump that had been   
building in his throat.

"Amanda never said" he muttered without thinking.

"So she did know." Methos grinned "She said she was looking for John's   
foster daughter but it was you she was really looking for. She thought   
you'd go to Paris. Amanda is there now, no doubt waiting for you. I   
always was better at finding things. Still I do have 4000 years on   
her" He smirked. "You were not to difficult to locate"

"I'd be in Paris now if I could afford it," he said. "I didn't access   
John's accounts in case someone got suspicious, especially the   
Watchers." There was as hint of annoyance in the boy's voice.

"They have stopped watching him now, John Peterson is dead, but the   
money he had is not theirs to claim or report as missing." Methos   
explained "They never interfere." The pair shared a few more beers and   
talked a while longer before Methos made excuses to leave. As they   
stood at the door Methos handed Richie a business card.

"It's for Joe's bar here in town. I'll make sure he is there on   
Friday afternoon. Try to be there. It'd mean a lot to him and you   
never know, it might help you too." With that Methos vanished back   
into the void he had came from, leaving behind nothing to show that he   
had been there. Richie was confused, he knew there was a Joe's in   
Warrington but he had avoided it, now he had to think seriously about   
whether he wanted to mortal back in his life.  
\-------------------------------  
\- Warrington, Joe's Bar. Friday 24th September 2004-

Richie pushed the door of the bar open and entered holding Emily's   
hand in his own. The small space reminded him of Joe's in Seacouver   
and the decor was much the same. Relief filled the young man when he   
realized there were no other immortals there.

"We're closed!" came a gruff voice from below the bar. Richie   
recognised it immediately as Joe. Before he could stop her Emily had   
slipped form his grasp and ran around the bar to see who the man   
behind it was. The buzz hit Richie as he went to chase after her and   
he saw a familiar figure bending to pick her up.

"I see this one is as much a terror as ever." Amanda said quietly.   
She ushered Richie to a table before leaning over the bar to get Joe.   
Methos had called her in Paris to gloat that he had found the boy   
first, and to get her to set up this meeting. "Joseph," she called, "I   
have a surprise for you, an early birthday present from Methos and   
me." She said putting her hands over his eyes before carefully taking   
him to sit at the table with Richie. This was a feat in itself as   
Joe's prosthetics made it difficult for him to walk. Taking her hands   
away Joe blinked a few times to compensate for the sudden brightness   
and then stared in disbelief at the eternal nineteen-year old who sat   
in front of him.

"Get Out!" Joe screeched, "I don't know who you are but this is not   
funny." The words were shouted through sobs. "Amanda how could you?"   
He asked more quietly before breaking down. Richie was speechless but   
it was Emily who went to comfort the old man.

"Don't be mad at Uncle Ryan, Mr. Joe. We wanted to surprise you. It   
was a special surprise and a big secret you see." She reached out a   
hand to wipe away his tears. "Uncle Ryan said you are like a Daddy to   
him and he said if I was good then maybe you could be my Granddad.   
I've never had a Granddad before." Emily was referring to a   
conversation Richie had had with her after Methos had left a few days   
earlier. She wanted to know why he was so upset and Richie had to   
explain that he felt the same as she did, full of confusion and   
sorrow, when Daddy John had left. Richie found it hard to explain to   
the eight-year old that he had felt close to Joe, so he had expressed   
it in terms that she would understand. Joe was as close to him as   
John had been, perhaps closer as he had known Richie as a mortal.

Joe sat up and stared at the child in disbelief. He rarely saw his   
own Grandchildren as Amy and he had fallen out over something trivial   
in Watcher business, and it had stretched their already strained   
relationship. This girl, who now held her arms up to him for a hug,   
had only love in her eyes broke through all his bitterness and   
loneliness. Joe pulled her into a hug Joe knew that this was the   
beginning of a new family, for all of them.

 

\--------------------------------------  
Part 7   
\---Epilogue---  
\-------------------------------------

 

-Warrington, Seacouver State. November 24th 2014-

Duncan MacLeod wandered the streets aimlessly. He did not know where   
he was going or what he was anymore. Life over the last ten years had   
been difficult. Joe had moved to Paris to follow Amanda and he   
believed that Methos had disappeared to Tibet to meditate and do   
whatever else it was that he did on his long journeys alone. Having   
been abandoned by those he sought most to protect, Duncan too had   
retreated. He had returned to his native Highlands where he spent   
many years alone amongst the heather and rolling hillsides. He loved   
the Highlands for they never changed, and they were the one constant   
thing in this ever-changing high tech world. The rugged beauty of his   
home in Glenfinnan had quieted the pain that had burned deep inside   
him from his years of loss. For MacLeod nothing could return the   
passion for life that had died that day at the racetrack, nearly   
twenty years ago, when his last tie to Tessa and to life had vanished.   
Duncan was not sure why he had returned to Seacouver. It had been   
more Richie's home than his own and yet as he had landed at Seacouver   
state international airport and set foot again on Washington soil, all   
the memories of decades past returned to him. Hopes and dreams that   
seemed long forgotten had flooded his mind, and so now MacLeod found   
himself wandering towards a bar he thought he would never see again.  
\---

Joe's bar bustled with people. The crowds hoped to hear the famous   
bluesman Joe Dawson who would often Jam with the in-house band. The   
Millennium had brought with it a backlash against mainstream pop.   
People wanted to return to the origins of music. Blues had become   
more popular than ever, and in the rush to experience "real" music Joe   
Dawson had again been approached to sign a contract with a small   
record label. Dawson would have preferred to stay at home and run his   
bars, but his Granddaughter Emily had told him that he ought to share   
his talent with the rest of the world and so he had. At the age of 55   
Joe Dawson quit life as a watcher and bar owner and had become a full-  
time singer and songwriter. Joe had been disheartened with the   
Watcher's since Duncan's disappearance, and his new family gave him   
the strength to leave the organization, although he was still on the   
records as an inactive agent. Even after he had a modicum of success   
Joe had never lost sight of his humble beginnings. At the height of   
his success Dawson still preferred small venues, like his own clubs,   
to the larger concert halls the record company wanted him to play. His   
manager, Richard Reed was responsible for Joe's business dealings and   
had made sure that he had more than enough money to retire to his   
condo in Florida, if he ever got tired. "Joe's Bar" had been   
successful with five situated in: Seacouver, Warrington, New York,   
Paris and London. All were run by the ever-vigilant Piers Adamson.   
Amanda Deveureux remained in New York with Emily while the eighteen-  
year old finished high school.

Emily had taken Reed as her name when Ryan Redstone had to disappear,   
and she was happy to accept the surname Dawson as an emergency   
identity. Emily had finally discovered the existence of immortals   
when she saw Methos die in a mindless act of violence at her   
Grandfather's club. She had never really noticed that Uncle Ryan had   
not age, and merely supposed he was destined to look young forever.   
Emily had not been shocked. She had grown up around swords and had   
become a skilful swordsman in her own right. The Immortal family had   
spent much of their free time teaching her how to better her expertise   
at fencing. Much to his chagrin, she could even beat Methos when the   
pair sparred. Though he had yet to teach her all the arts of cheating   
that it had taken him 5000 years to master.

The past ten years had been kind to them all, and the unusual family   
had prospered after their tentative move to Paris. They had watched   
Emily grow up into the beautiful and articulate young lady that she   
had become and, despite the hardships along the way, she was now   
finally beginning to settle down. Emily excelled at languages, both   
living and dead thanks to Methos' teaching. She could play a mean   
blues guitar and run up excessive credit card bills shopping. Her   
penchant for theft and computer fraud upset certain members of her   
family but they were skills she never put to any seriously illegal   
use, unless you count the incident when the Nasa computer was upgraded   
so it could run Space Invaders. Emily also had an eye for the classics   
and she thought that the space agency might enjoy the irony of it all,   
Methos certainly had. Joe's career had eventually separated them by   
miles but there was a bond there that would never again be broken.   
Methos and Amanda knew that the only missing link in the family was   
the Clan Chieftain, Duncan MacLeod. Unfortunately he had been missing   
for over 10 years now. When Joe gave up the Watchers he had lost the   
ability to track his former immortal and so MacLeod remained lost.

The family came together again for Joe's 65th Birthday at the same bar   
where years before a hug from a sweet child had united him with the   
growing family of immortals. They sat in the large private function   
room, where Joe would relax between sets, and discussed the events   
that had happened in their lives since their last meeting. Richie had   
faced a challenger three days before, Methos discussed the Toronto   
opening of Joe's, Amanda was regaling them with details of her morning   
raid on an art gallery to pick up a nice litte Matisse, and Emily told   
them of her latest meeting with her accountant. Her eighteenth   
birthday, just three weeks before, had seen her inherit the entire   
Peterson estate. Now a wealthy woman she owned John's houses in Paris   
and London and had assets to keep her well into the next century. Joe   
had also decided to retire from the business world. At 65 he had   
realized he needed to take time off, and explore the opportunities he   
had not yet encountered. Joe may be old but there was life left in   
him and Methos was going to show him the world from a new point of   
view. The businesses were split equally between the two youngest   
immortals, Richie and Emily, with Amanda receiving a share of profits   
as long as she promised to give up her life of crime, which she did   
grudgingly. Joe had enjoyed his years at the top of the charts, but   
he missed his family.

They were laughing about the look on the accountants face when Emily   
asked if she had enough money to buy Hawaiian islands, when they felt   
the buzz. Knowing what the look on their faces meant, Emily drew her   
sword along with her relatives. Duncan MacLeod walked through the   
door to find Methos' sword at his throat with three other swords   
trailing behind him.

"Well if it isn't Methos and the three Musketeers" Mac joked before   
realizing who the owner of the katana on Methos' left was.

Joe watched as Duncan turned white as a sheet before he fell down   
fainting. Methos could not manage to move his sword away in time, and   
found that the falling body of his friend had impaled itself on his   
Ivanhoe.

\------------------

This was not the first time that Emily had seen a "reawakening" as she   
referred to it, but the blue lightening that darted across the manly   
chest still made her eyes sparkle with wonder. She had heard many   
stories about the errant Duncan MacLeod, and had read even more by   
accessing the Watcher chronicles on the computer. The thought of how   
easily she had broken the multi-puzzle locks and passwords of the   
archaic system made her want to giggle now, but she stifled the   
impulse for fear of adding to the confusion of the emotionally charged   
moment.

\---

Duncan gasped for air as he felt the life return to his body, he saw   
the beautiful Amanda sitting next to him concerned. Methos stood at   
the back of the room noncommittally with the aging Joe Dawson next to   
him, standing tall in his top of the range titanium legs. Scanning   
the room he saw him again forever young Richie Ryan who he believed to   
be dead.

"Richie?" Mac croaked, unable to trust his voice. Richie turned his   
back on Duncan and went to sit on his own. " 'manda is it him?" He   
asked, the hope audible in his voice as tears welled in his eyes.

"Yes MacLeod, it's me." Richie returned spitefully. "Come for my head   
after all this time have you?" The younger man asked. "Waited until   
after I rebuilt my life before you came back to destroy it again?"   
Fear from almost twenty years welled into Richie's heart as he turned   
to face the man who for so long he had seen as his enemy. ***Why did   
he have to come back now just when things were going well???*** he   
thought in distress. Amanda too was fearful, both for Duncan and her   
new family, she could not see into the future, but it looked to be a   
hard path for them all.

"Rich, leave it." Emily said warily. "He never meant to hurt you. It   
was a Demon, not really him. Duncan MacLeod was a good man, he saved   
your hide on a number of occasions." She said. Methos stared at her in   
disbelief, he had never known Emily to defend a perfect stranger,   
although it was in her nature to do so.

"If there is a challenge you can't intervene." Methos said softly,   
willing her to leave it be.

"*No!* " she replied "It is a problem for all of us. We face things   
*together*. As a family, remember? I owe this man more than you'll   
ever know. I've never met him and yet I do know I have a lot to be   
grateful for. O'Rourke," she said looking at Amanda. "Hyde," she   
turned to Richie "Horton" she turned to Joe. Then finally to Methos   
"*Kronos*" she said with added emphasis, knowing Methos would be the   
most difficult member to persuade. "Without him I'd be an orphan. I   
never would have met you." She said, her voice softening as the love   
in her eyes was reflected in her voice. "That's why I want you to   
leave it. He's as much a part of this family as those of you who   
raised me." Finally deciding she had convinced them she went to a   
bemused looking Highlander and kissed him on the cheek.

"Thank you for caring for them." she said, allowing tears to roll down   
her cheeks. Duncan took her in his arms and tentatively gave her a   
hug. This pre-immortal had made a big impression on him, and the words   
of his kinsman echoed in his head about one who had to be watched.

There was an uncertain and troubled future in front of them, but they   
would face it together. Joe smiled as he watched the immortals mingle   
together. This young woman who had so much love and power to give, to   
reunite, and then to finally mend the damage of so many years. He had   
kept the Chronicle of her life secret, he knew that she must have   
broken into the watcher database or else how could she have known   
about Kronos and Horton. One day he would tell them that she had been   
born the same day Darius had died, had been christened at his church   
and was, as far as he could see, the embodiment of the holy priest.   
All information that he had erased from those files himself when he   
had seen it. For now Joe was happy in the knowledge that Emily was   
loved and he still had had his family.

End "To Live and Love Again" 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my Beta Lisa Lynn.


End file.
